Come Back
by 20Waffles20
Summary: Summary: Emily went to London and was replaced by Blake. She's now dead set on ignoring her former team, but why? This is set like a year after the season 7 finale. Morgan/Prentiss centric.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Here's the deal. The italics are a flashback sequence that will be played out through the story. It's probably also worth a mention that the time difference between the east coast of the States and the western side of the U.K. is five hours. I've been working on this one for awhile now, and I hope you all like it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds, or anything related to the show...or anything else...**

"_Um… am I interrupting something here?" Emily spoke from one of the many monitors scattered about. Garcia jumped, pausing mid speech to survey her lair. They had set up a weekly chat date, one that Emily was almost exclusively late to; that was_ if _she didn't end up having to cancel and reschedule. It wasn't difficult to see how the current scene could have been misconstrued. Garcia was on her knees, stage right, facing Derek. He was on the left of the camera, and laughing hysterically at Penelope's reenactment of Kevin Lynch's second proposal in as many years. Apparently the poor guy had thought that his first attempt had been lacking in clichés._

_Garcia was on her feet in a flash, and moved to her rightful place quickly. "Oh finally," she cheered. "You're back! I was beginning to worry."_

"_Sorry, Pen." Emily grimaced. She knew that Penelope missed her because, at the end of the day, she missed every one of her friends at the B.A.U. just as much. "I just had to jump down Jensen's throat because he thought that it would be perfectly fine to obtain and serve a search warrant on a Member of Parliament without running it by me first."_

"_Did he get what he needed from the search?" Derek asked. He was now leaning over Garcia's shoulder, having invited himself to the conversation._

"_Well, he found a few million dollars worth of illegal substances and weapons," she answered nonchalantly. "The only problem is that the warrant wasn't exactly official. He didn't have a signature to legitimize it." _

_Derek's expression turned to a thoughtful one. Emily knew the man like the back of her hand, and that look told her that he was weighing out the facts at his disposal. "Sounds like the Cat did what he had to do. Actually, come to think of it, sounds like something _you'd _do." _

_Emily nodded. "Which is precisely why I put my ass on the line for him and used some contacts to cover it up." She added a little smirk to let him know that she was still, very much so, mischievous. The action had brought a slow, but brilliant smile to his face as well._

* * *

That had been three months ago. It was now about a year since his trip to London with Penelope, though he could imagine the tisk he would have gotten from Spencer for that thought. The Kid would have said, '_ten months, two weeks, three days, fourteen hours and give or take fifteen minutes.'_ It had taken Derek a few minutes, and a sheet of paper, to work that out. He wasn't exactly able to focus on his job at the moment though. This time it was because he found a pen that he had covertly borrowed from her desk a few years back to finish up an incident report. He knew for certain that it was hers, not many F.B.I. agents gnawed on the ends of their writing utensils. The distance hadn't been too bad though, really; they'd been in touch. Not a day went by that they didn't exchange a text message at the very least. That was, up until the day he had talked to her in Penelope's office. Why had all communication between the former partners ceased so abruptly? That would be because Derek Morgan was a fool. That was a fact that he was all too ready to admit, if she would only allow him the opportunity.

A throat clearing in his forefront tore his attention away from the device in his hands. Garcia wasn't exactly the type of person to sneak up on people, fluorescent blurs tend to be noticeable, but she was standing tall in front of his desk. He hadn't even realized that his office door had opened. It's funny how an inanimate object can entrance a person so entirely. Then again, it wasn't the ink pen that had turned his brain to mush. "I'm sorry, Penelope?" He couldn't figure out exactly what it was that had brought the exuberant techie to see him. "We're we supposed to get lunch today or somethin'?"

She had her hands on her hips and a scowl set firmly in place. It didn't take a profiler to see that she was about an inch shy of complete belligerence. "What have you done?" Morgan definitely did not have an answer for that. His brows knitted together and he gave an involuntary shrug to indicate so. "I just had a little talk with the other members of the Justice League." Colorful descriptions aside, he already didn't like where this was going. "It's been four months for Hotch and three for J.J., Spence, Dave and me." He shook his head, still at a loss for whatever it was he was about to be apologizing for. "Exactly how long has it been since you've talked to Wonder Woman?"

There it was, and he actually deserved the third degree this time. It was entirely his fault that Prentiss had cut them all off. He knew precisely why she had done it, and he honestly couldn't blame her for it. He'd probably caused her a lot of grief in the course of that short conversation. He had said a lot of things that should never have passed his lips, especially given that the conversation had been via video call. There were some things that were just supposed to be said in person. "I don't know," he lied, "three months or so? That day in your office was the last time I spoke with her."

Her eyes narrowed. The woman could be downright intimidating when she was determined to get to the bottom of something. She stepped forward and, leaning down, put her hands on the front edge of his desk. "That's interesting because that's the last time _I_ talked to her as well, and no one else has heard from her since." Her voice was deadly low, and he knew that she had come to the conclusion that whatever had happened had transpired that day. He noticeably swallowed the nervousness that realization caused, Penelope was not the type of person to relent.

He stood from behind his desk, clearly uncomfortable with being forced into a defensive posture. "I don't know what you want from me here, Garcia? She's the head of an entire Interpol division, Prentiss has a lot on her plate."

That was the second time that he had addressed Penelope by her actual name, and she did not miss it. "You need to fix whatever it is that happened between the two of you, and now." He opened his mouth with a retort, but she only raised her hand to silence him. "I mean it, Mister." Those were her parting words. He knew she was right, but he didn't even know where to begin. He was in for a long night to finish up his week as it was, one that would only be made longer if he didn't focus on what he was supposed to be doing. If someone on a different continent wanted to avoid you, it could be done with relative ease.

* * *

However, it wasn't that Emily was _avoiding_ him so much as she was just pretending that he didn't exist altogether. She was a few thousand miles away, and not exactly in a position to deal with their falling out. That's why she was doing her absolute best to keep the whole mess compartmentalized for a later date. She told herself that she'd visit D.C. the first chance she got. That they could figure out how to deal with it once they were in the same room. Until then, she would settle for having plenty of time with her thoughts.

It had been a long day at Interpol, longer than usual, which meant that it was dark out and virtually everyone had left for the night. Everyone, that is, except for Liam Winchester; or, as Emily liked to think of him, 'The British Aaron Hotchner'. The man did more paperwork than she thought humanly possible. After a week or so as the boss, she had figured out that he had taken to doing a lot more than was necessary. He had the option to delegate, but chose to do the work himself. When she'd confronted him about it, he'd waved it off saying that his people deserved social lives. She liked, and respected him a great deal. That's why she hated the idea of having to do what she was about to do.

Winchester and his team had put in a request to transfer a prisoner to their offices for questioning two days ago. Wales was pretty far away, and it'd be a bitch if they ended up having to do a follow-up interview. He was just finishing loading his laptop into a canvas messenger bag when she entered the bullpen. '_Poor sap probably thought he'd be getting some sleep tonight,'_ she thought.

Liam's whole body sagged as he noticed the woman walking in his direction. "What is it this time, Boss?" He couldn't quite suppress the smug expression that was slowly washing over his features. "You got another case for me, or does the copy machine need toner?" Maybe he was a little more like David Rossi than he was her former unit chief. "Don't I do enough around here?"

Emily just shook her head, smiling at his antics. "This one's on you, Pal." She held up the folder containing his team's approval. "Your request finally came through. The prisoner," she paused to search for a name, " Mickles?" Her face scrunched as the word left her mouth. "Seriously, Donny Mickles? I think I might have been a mass murderer too if that were my name." Winchester smiled appreciatively at the lame joke, eyes crinkling at the edges. "Anyway, you can pick him up anytime."

"Thank you, Ma'am." He accepted the file and, to her surprise, opened it up on his desk and took a seat.

She squinted at the man. He was in his mid forties, had sandy-blond hair in a shaggy cut and looked like he could handle himself in a brawl. In fact, he looked like he might have participated in a few. Though, as Emily had learned through a late night coffee break conversation, he had gotten some scars during his rugby days. He didn't mind though. He was adamant that a couple of blemishes were well worth a free ride to university. "You know," she said, "you can fill that out at home."

He looked up for a moment, but not at her. He only laughed and went back to filling out the form. "Yeah, but then I'd have to drive all the way back to Wales tomorrow to give it to the warden."

Emily raised her eyebrows at that. "You're going tonight? That's like a four hour drive," she said in stunned disbelief.

"Yeah," he countered, turning to face her, "but there's some beautiful countryside out west." Her face left no doubt that she was clearly _over_ the lighthearted banter. He checked his watch. "Look, I can be there and back by 10 a.m. If I wait until morning, I won't get back until four in the afternoon. That's _if_ Jackson doesn't have to stop every five minutes to hit the loo." Having made his point, he went back to the paperwork.

Emily _had_ heard the other agent get ragged pretty heavily for the fact that he had a seemingly nonexistent bladder. It wasn't a condition that was conducive to surveillance operations. She chewed on her lip for a moment as she contemplated her choices. It was then that she realized how ignorant it had been of her to think that _she_ would be getting any sleep tonight. "Fine, but I'm driving on the way back."

Liam's head whipped back around to his superior. "Funny, I don't recall inviting you?" His smile grew as she retreated to her office to gather her things.

She called over her shoulder, "and _you're_ buying the coffee." That offhanded comment brought out his dimples in full force.

**A/N: So, this is my first attempt at actually creating a character (Liam Winchester). I'd like to know what people think of him if it's not a bother. This is my first attempt at seriousness in a story too, I usually go for laughs. Also, I have a strange medical condition... I have to post chapter updates faster if I get lots o' reviews. It's a sickness, really.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for all the fantastic reviews. You guys are the best! I'm glad that Liam was well received, even to the point that somebody was wanting me to have him and Emily get together and just forget about Derek. I must say, the thought has crossed my mind while writing this.**

**I also need to thank mike91848 for being totally awesome, and making me... make sense. I'd never had a beta before, but I lucked out when I came across him.**

**Now, to the reading! Let me know what you think.**

"_Alright, enough of that!" Garcia shouted. "You get to talk to her all the time," she said to Morgan in an almost whining tone. "This is PEmily time." She turned back to her monitor then. "Don't you have any hot British guys to flirt with over there yet?"_

_Derek released an almost silent laugh as he raised his hands and backed away. "And _that _would be my cue."_

_Before he could take his leave though, Penelope's landline started to ring. "Look who's all work and no play now," Emily pointed out gleefully to the techie._

_Garcia gave a sympathetic smile in response, and then answered the phone. She profusely apologized to the person at the other end, and then hung up. "I'm sorry my Love, but I have to run this analysis to Hotch. Otherwise, I think he might have an aneurism." At Emily's insistence that it was fine, she stood and made her way to exit. Before she left though, she shoved Derek back toward the computer. "Keep 'er warm for me."_

_Emily and Derek had both laughed at that, and then the atmosphere had become suddenly thick. Emily wasn't sure what had changed, but she could feel the intensity. It was strange, being that they were half a world apart. But then again, only a thin pane of glass separated them._

* * *

Derek had been trying to repair the damage since it happened, calling Emily relentlessly in his spare time. He doubted that increasing the frequency of the calls tonight had made much of a difference, but he had to try. He couldn't stand by and let Emily isolate herself from everyone, and Garcia had made it painfully clear that morning that she wasn't about to let him. Derek had sent dozens of texts and e-mails, and he was pretty sure that he'd heard Emily's voicemail recording enough in the past few months to repeat it from memory. When he was a kid, his sisters liked to play a little game when they were mad at him. They'd act like he wasn't there, and had never even been born. Looking back, he knew that it was just a childish punishment for his incessant tattling. He'd thought that _they_ had been bad, but he'd never been ignored quite this efficiently before.

Then he started to wonder why Emily was mad at him at all. He hadn't said anything that warranted her anger. He had only been honest with her. Maybe _he_ should be mad at _her_, she was the one acting like a child. He released a heavy sigh, that woman was going to drive him insane.

The knock on his door effectively put an end to his internal debate. It was just after two in the morning, and he was a little surprised that anyone else was in. It was J.J. that entered, and she had a fresh stack of folders. She smiled apologetically at the way his face fell, "Conference room in thirty, the others are on their way back in. The one on top is urgent, and the rest will have to wait." He barely had the time to utter an affirmative response before she whisked back through the now open door. It looked like they were going to end up catching a case tonight and the thought brought a moan from deep within his chest. He wouldn't be going home to sleep off the emotionally draining day for the whole weekend after all. He did have thirty minutes to listen to Emily's voicemail a few more times though, and he could do that while he skimmed the file in front of him.

* * *

Emily pushed in the top right button on her phone using a little more force than was necessary. It was about the hundredth time she had completed the action during the course of their little road trip, and Liam couldn't hide the concern in his voice. "Everything copasetic there, Boss?"

She clenched her jaw, angry with herself for not hiding her frustration. It showed for only a second longer before Emily was able to school her features and replace the frown with a warm smile aimed at her subordinate. "Yeah, wrong number."

She knew that the man wasn't a dunce, and that he didn't believe her for a second. "Well," he blew out a breath of air and turned away, "maybe you should tell _him_ that."

They were sitting in the parking lot of the prison in Wales. Neither of them had had the presence of mind to realize that no warden would be available to sign off on the order at six in the morning. So they'd been sitting in their BMW for the past hour and a half. That was long enough for Emily to begin to miss being in the spacious Suburbans that the F.B.I. used for standard transportation. Though, she considered, the BMW was much nicer.

Both of the agents were a little too exhilarated to see a car pull into the spot marked, 'Reserved for Warden'. They quickly hopped out and trotted toward the main entrance after the man had gone inside.

* * *

_Garcia breezed back into the room. Her adventure had taken a bit longer than expected, and she'd been working on an apology all the way from Hotch's office. As the door clicked shut behind her though, she was nothing if not confused by what played out before her. Derek immediately stood up, greeting her and saying his goodbyes to Emily in the same breath, before rushing passed Penelope. She spun to follow him out of the room with her eyes, far too astounded by the maneuver to try to stop him. _

_When she turned back to her computer, Emily looked well composed if a little more pale than usual. Garcia shook it off and made her way back to her chair. Before she could begin the long-winded explanation of regret that she had worked up, the other woman began a regret-fueled sentence of her own. "I'm sorry Penelope, but I have to go. I… I have a lot to get done before I can leave for the evening." Garcia had dragged it out for a few more minutes, pleading for the brunette to take some vacation time and come home. That had only seemed to make the other woman want to end the conversation all the more quickly._

* * *

Emily had gotten a reprieve from the never-ending phone calls for the last hour or so, and she couldn't help but wonder if the team was on the jet. She'd set her phone in the cup holder for easy access to decline incoming calls, but dammit if she wasn't a little disappointed that she hadn't gotten any to decline.

Winchester spotted her eyeing the dormant cell as if she were trying to will it to ring. "There are laws against using those things and driving for a reason." She passively rolled her eyes at him. "Though, I've never heard of anybody wrecking because their phone _wasn't_ going off."

Emily shifted her focus from the road ahead to glare at her passenger. "I'm perfectly capable of driving without a running Public Service Announcement, thank you." Liam only laughed as she returned her stare to the road.

"Any chance you could drive a little faster?" The prisoner spoke with a thick Irish accent. "How long we been in this piece o' shite anyhow?"

"Shut up, Mickles," Winchester sounded lamely. "We'll get there when we get there, don't worry your pretty little head about it."

Emily tuned out the outburst thinking, '_the worst part of transferring a prisoner is listening to them run their mouths.'_ It tended to get monotonous after awhile. "Enjoy the scenery while you can," she added. It was more for her partner's amusement than anything else.

Mickles leaned forward quickly, peering over Emily's shoulder to look at the clock on the dash. "Hey," Winchester barked, "get your ass back in that seat." The man obliged, but he fixed Liam with an angry stare. Winchester didn't back down, instead forcing the other man to capitulate. Once satisfied that he had indeed won, Liam turned back to the front.

Neither agent missed the sound, the metallic click almost deafening in the small space. They were both overly familiar with the noise and wouldn't have normally batted an eye at it, had it not been for the fact that it came from the back seat. Before they could react, the silence that they had previously settled into erupted into a loud crack. There was no hesitance in his movements as Liam tore his seatbelt away and went for the gun. There was another thunderous crack just as he reached his objective. Both bullets had ripped through the back of the driver's seat and, presumably, Emily as well.

She didn't feel the pain. She didn't have the time to. Emily had no idea where the first shot had landed, but the second had hit her hard. It cut through her right shoulder and the force of the impact made her jerk the steering wheel. They hadn't been moving at a great speed, but it was fast enough to make it nearly impossible to correct for the sudden change in direction. They swerved violently toward the side of the road. The momentum, coupled with the rough terrain of the ditch, was enough to roll them. Screeching metal, broken glass and then nothing.

* * *

"_You heard the lady," Emily began to chuckle somewhat nervously at their friend's overly suggestive command. She stopped smiling and looked more serious when Morgan hadn't joined her. "Derek?" He watched her eyes as she searched his face looking for anything to indicate what he was feeling. He averted his gaze for that very reason, deciding that he didn't _want _her to read him. "Is everything okay?" Concern colored her words. _

"_Yeah," he started solemnly, slowly facing her again. "Just…" Derek had to run a hand over his chin. His thoughts were waging war, and he needed something to say to her. "I was just thinkin' is all." It wasn't what he really wanted to say, what he desperately needed to say, but not a lie either._

"_Hey," her voice was low and breathy. He could tell that she was waiting for him to open up, that she knew he was keeping something from her. "How is everyone over there?"_

"_Awe you know," Derek played up the charm that he was so famous for. "J.J.'s keepin' 'em in line."_

"_Yeah?" Her warm laughter flowed through the speakers again, and he couldn't help but smile in return. "I was wondering who was gonna step up when I left." Derek knew that crestfallen didn't even begin to describe his current expression, but he didn't care. She probably didn't mean for her words to come off the way that he had taken them, but they had still hurt. He could see that she had almost instantly realized her misstep as well._ "_I'm sorry," she whispered into the silence._

"_Come back," he choked out. Emily's mouth fell open but, if he was doing this, he was going to put everything out there. His sadness at her comment only served to push him into telling her exactly how he felt. "_I _want you to come back to D.C. I want you to come back for _me_." She looked down, breaking his unrelenting eye contact. Derek could tell that she was trying to come up with a response, he hoped to God that it wasn't 'No', and he knew that he had to make sure that she understood him in no uncertain terms. "I am desperately in love with you. I should have grabbed you the minute you walked into my life, or even when you walked _back _into my life. Hell, I should have handcuffed myself to you when you said you were leaving." Her head tilted to the side, and he knew that look. It was pity. She leaned forward, elbows on the desk, and pressed her lips into her knuckles. "I should have never left London, but I did." His eyes were wide, and glistened with tears. "You know why?"_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I couldn't leave you guys hanging for too long... I just finished writing the fourth and final chapter, so I'll have it up as soon as it is beta'ed for coherency!**

The usually vibrant technical analyst was now sitting at a foreign conference table with her laptop open in front of her. The team _had_ been called out on a case and, lucky for her, Hotch had deemed it necessary for her to tag along. So, she had dragged herself out of bed and onto the jet to New York. It was still dark out, and she couldn't bring herself to live with the fact that she was yet to have consumed a cup of coffee.

She sat across from Derek Morgan, and that would be her saving grace for the day. A little shameless flirtation, and she'd be able to return to her chipper self. The rest of the team had gone straight to the most recent crime scene to meet the detective they'd be working with. Blake was there, but she had long since grown used to the back and forth between the pair. "Hey, Sugar Daddy," Garcia started in a sultry voice, "Jayje said that you were still at work when we got called in?"

Morgan looked up briefly, and then went back to studying the case file. "Had some catching up to do," he answered dismissively.

That was a bit of a let down for Garcia, she hadn't even gotten a 'Baby Girl' out of him. She watched her best friend for a moment and, when she was about to turn back to her own work, his phone went off. It was then that Penelope saw something that she didn't think possible. Derek was sent into a clumsy fluster as he hastily tried to liberate the device like his life depended on it. She noted the way his shoulders dropped as he read the display, and then he put the phone to his ear. "Yeah, man?" Derek answered. "Alright… Okay, I'll let her know." He ended the call and put the cell back in his pocket. "Reid says they'll be back in about twenty minutes." He turned to Blake, "said there were some journals you should take a look at when they get here." The older woman just nodded and went back to listing particulars on a whiteboard.

"Who exactly were you expecting?" He glanced up at Garcia again. When he didn't offer an answer she began to explain further. "It's kind of ridiculously early, is all, who could possibly be calling you now?" Blake rotated toward Derek with a curious expression, waiting for his answer.

"None of your damn business," was Derek's loud, and considerably mean reply. He followed it up by barreling toward the open door of the conference room, and leaving in the midst of a fit of rage.

Garcia's mouth gaped at the hostility, and she sat completely still.

Blake appeared moderately surprised as well. She took his vacated place at the table and reached out to cover Garcia's hand. "I wouldn't take _that_," she tipped her head in the direction that their colleague had gone, "too personally."

That had at least brought Garcia out of her nearly catatonic state. "Just how am I supposed to take it then?" She was more than upset, and on the verge of crying. Derek Morgan did not _yell_ at Penelope Garcia.

Blake sighed, started to speak then stopped, and then spoke softly. "Look, love can drive a person mad if it's unrequited."

"Wait, what?" Penelope was obviously perplexed. "You think that Derek and I? No, absolutely not. Not in a million years. I mean, like, never." If she had stopped shaking her head sooner, she would have noticed that Blake was doing the same.

"I'm not saying _you_." Alex smiled at Penelope's defensive rant. "I'm talking about Agent Prentiss." If it were possible, Garcia looked to be more shocked by that idea than she had been by Derek's actions. "Think about it. You said she stopped speaking to you all three months ago? He's been stalking around the Bureau like a wounded dog ever since then…" Blake cocked her head to the side, "seems like your basic case of an admission of love gone awry to me."

Garcia's eyes were downcast now, and swimming through memories and new ideas. She hadn't really thought much about the incident at the time. She was well aware that Emily had a much more time consuming job now, and that it came with an entirely new bundle of stress. She couldn't fathom why Derek had sped out of the room, but she had figured that he had plenty of things to get to as well. She had just settled for being mildly disappointed that she had missed out on that week's chat, she and Emily would only have more to catch up on for the next week."No way. Even if he did," Garcia paused, doing her best to imagine the situation Blake had just posited, "and he told her? Emily wouldn't hurt him like that."

Blake just shrugged. "I don't know her. I'm just saying that he's upset about something and, whatever it is, it happened around the same time that she stopped talking to you guys."

Now Garcia was _really_ thinking about it. "No way," she repeated. Only, this time, her words held an element of excitement. She swiftly grabbed her own mobile and brought up the video call application. "Alex, we're getting to the bottom of this _right_ _now_."

* * *

Uncomfortable. That was the best way to describe how Emily felt when she came to. It was strange, going from nothingness to an almost hypersensitive state. The car had stopped rolling, had probably been still for quite awhile, but there were still a few ticks and clicks as the heavy object settled. The pounding in her head only served to amplify each and every sound around her. The pain from her newly gained wounds was slowly creeping across her body. It was dull at first, but as she continued to clear her mind and focus on what had happened, the pain intensified.

She was aware of the burning sensation in her shoulder, of the equally unpleasant feeling in her lower right abdomen. She had vaguely registered the amount of visible blood, her blood. She'd had concussions before so, nauseating as that aspect was, she could deal with it. Then she felt the weight on her left side. It was a distant sensation, overshadowed as it was by her multitude of injuries, but it was there nonetheless. It was persistent, and she was almost single-mindedly focused on figuring out what it was. She reached across her body with her left hand to push herself up, noticing for the first time that the entire car was on it's right side; that her window had shattered, and that she had been very intimate with the asphalt of the roadway for however long she had been unconscious. It took some effort, but she eventually managed to twist her upper body in order to get a good view of the rest of the car.

She looked down, wanting to see what was on top of her: a pair of legs that _weren't_ in a prison uniform. Emily closed her eyes with a silent prayer. She pushed herself up to look over the back of her seat, releasing an unintentional groan from the pain that the action caused. She was met with the lifeless form of her colleague and friend, and an otherwise empty vehicle. Her eyes closed again and she dropped back into the driver's side door. There was nothing she could do.

* * *

"She didn't answer?" Blake asked.

"No," Garcia pouted for a moment, and then was overcome with a wave of determination, "but she's gonna." She proceeded to call Emily again. When she was met with no answer for the second time, Penelope merely called back. It was an operation that she would vehemently repeat until she found out what was going on between her friends. Until they fixed their issues, and apologized to one another if need be. She would go to the ends of the Earth to help her friends, and she didn't mind if they got a little frustrated with her in the process.

* * *

The next attempt at regaining consciousness went much smoother. Emily didn't know if that was a good thing or not, but she was far too busy trying to figure out what that noise was to think about it. It was an intermittent buzzing, followed by a shrill tone. Whatever it was, it was continuously annoying.

Her faculties were jumbled at best as she fought to reopen her eyes. When she finally managed to, she spotted the offensive device. It was lying on the asphalt about a foot from her head. She tentatively reached out for it. Emily was grasping at the phone, but didn't have the wherewithal to actually pick it up. She flipped it over to get a look at the screen. There, staring back at her rather maliciously, was Penelope. Garcia had taken the picture herself, citing that Emily wouldn't dare ignore a phone call from an _angry_ tech goddess. Had she not been in so much pain, she would have laughed at the memory. Emily pushed herself to stay conscious and slid the bar over the screen to answer the call.

"It's about time, Miss." Garcia's voice came across the speaker in her usual flustered tone, and then stopped once she had taken in the view on her end. She wasn't met with the face of the woman she had been expecting, but with the inside of what appeared to be a very damaged car. "Emily?" In her typical fashion, she flew straight into full-on panic mode. "Emily, where the heck are you?"

Emily wanted to answer, knew that she had to, but couldn't concentrate enough to voice any kind of coherent response. She hated herself for it, but the best reply she could manage to send her concerned friend was a barely audible moan. Her eyes slid shut, and she was lost again.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: As promised, the freshly beta'ed final chapter. Thank you for the wonderful reviews and feedback, you guys are really great! Sorry for the wait, I thought for sure that I posted this last night.**

_Emily was astonished by the sudden flow of information. The content of which, was all the more staggering. Eyes blurry with tears of her own that she refused to let fall, Emily was having trouble making out the man who was professing his love for her. There was no way she'd be able to give a verbal response at this point. Her throat was so constricted that she was having difficulty breathing. She settled for shaking her head from side to side. _

_Derek had to take a calming breath before he could continue. "Because I'm a damn fool."_

_She wanted to tell him just how right he was about that, but then she'd be a hypocrite. Truth be told, she just as easily could have been the one to confess her feelings for him. They were both fools, and she couldn't believe that it had taken them this long to realize it. If they'd only figured out that they were in love with one another before she'd left, before they were thousands of miles apart and Emily had extraneous commitments to tend to, they wouldn't be having this conversation through a computer. _

_Time was passing steadily, but she was frozen in thought. It hadn't taken her long after leaving to realize that what she was missing, what was truly wrong with her life in D.C., was a family. Emily's life was finally in order, she finally had the opportunity to settle down, but she hadn't recognized the window for what it was. Instead, she had packed her bags and taken on the responsibility she was now fully saddled with. It had taken Morgan's stark affirmation for her to see what she had missed out on, to understand completely how poorly she had handled her unexpected freedom. She had been all too willing to condemn herself to a life of serving others, and never truly having the things that she wanted. _

_Derek had just lifted that weight for a second time, and she wasn't about to screw it up again. She raised her eyes to the monitor only to be met with the man's retreating form. She watched as he darted from the room, clearly startled by Penelope. She couldn't believe that he had abandoned that question, and that her answer wasn't worth sticking around for. Emily hastily cleared her face of any stray tears, and took a couple of deep breaths. As Garcia sat down to continue their chat, Emily could only think of Derek. She cleared her throat and, before her friend could say anything, she was already apologizing. "I'm sorry Penelope, but I have to go. I… I have a lot to get done before I can leave for the evening." It wasn't a total lie, but she felt bad about it anyway. Garcia had dragged out her goodbye for a few more minutes, pleading for the brunette to take some vacation time and come home. The thought of going back there had only proved to make Emily more upset than she already was._

* * *

"Garcia?" It was only Hotch's forceful, yet somehow caring, tone that finally brought Penelope out of her terror-induced search. She had completely melded into her computer, and had unintentionally tuned out Blake's concerned questions for the past five minutes or so. Her sole prerogative had been to find Emily.

"Pen, what's wrong?" She could hear J.J.'s thinly veiled anxiety, and it was only then that she realized how much of mess she probably was.

Garcia wiped away at her tears for only a few seconds before kicking herself for wasting time. "It's Emily," she managed. She picked up the previously discarded cell phone, and cradled it in her hands like it would explode if it were to be jostled. "I called and called, and she finally answered." Offering the phone to Hotch, she continued. "Only, she didn't actually answer. I heard a soft whimper though, Sir, and I know it was Emily. I just know it. I think she might be hurt."

It was difficult for four people to get a good look at the face of a cell phone at the same time, but the newcomers obviously had little concern of personal space. Rossi, J.J. and Reid immediately crowded around the unit chief, vying for a decent view.

Spencer was the first to speak after the initial shock had subsided. "Look at that cloud formation through the passenger's window. That's not a side view." Garcia hadn't noticed that, and released a small gasp after coming to terms with just exactly what it meant.

Hotch was the second to come around. "Do we have a location, Garcia?" His voice was now void of any emotion that had previously shown through.

Penelope spun around to her laptop once more, the boss' demeanor effectively setting her back into business mode. "She's about an hour east of Brecon on autoroute A40. It appears to be mostly surrounded by farmland, Sir. It took me a little longer than usual to track the call, I didn't understand their cellular network. You'd think that it wouldn't be all that different from our…"

"Penelope!" To the tech's surprise, it was J.J. who had lost patience and shouted her name in an effort to get her back on track.

Garcia kicked herself again and got down to what mattered. "What I'm trying to say is that now that I have a location, I don't know what to do with it."

"What do you mean?" sounded a miffed Rossi. She understood that his anger was only a manifestation of his worry for Emily. "You call it in."

Garcia's hands went up in defeat. "Call it in to who?"

"Get the ambassador on the line," Hotch interrupted, calm and stern.

* * *

He strongly felt that there was no better way to fully feel like an ass than to walk down a busy sidewalk by himself. Being the hothead that he is, that was something that Derek had done quite a bit in his life. He'd always rather enjoyed it. Being veritably surrounded by people, but completely internalizing his thoughts in order to ease his troubled mind. He liked the idea of not being alone with his tumultuous feelings. The best part was that none of these people knew who he was, and he'd probably never see them again. It was a strange way of dealing with his issues, but it worked for him. It wasn't exactly the same as drowning his troubles at a bar, but he was on the clock anyway.

A quick glance at his watch told him that he'd been gone for much longer than he had intended to be. He turned on the spot and headed back to the station house. He'd find a way to make up to Garcia later.

* * *

Derek was instantly hit with a bad vibe upon entering the conference room. It was a sad tension in the air, and he was almost afraid to ask. Garcia stood from her seat before he had the chance. He was about to apologize, but was taken off guard when she wrapped herself around him and began to sob. He looked to Hotch, and was shocked to find the stoic professional near tears as well. Something had happened, and something bad. He returned the hug a little harder in anticipation for whatever he was about to hear.

Hotch cleared his throat. "Garcia was trying to get in touch with Prentiss. When the video call connected, this is what she saw." He slid Penelope's cell phone across the table to the other man.

Derek gently pried himself away from Garcia and picked up the phone. He swallowed hard, finding his throat suddenly dry. "Where is she?" he asked to no one in particular. He couldn't keep himself from bringing the phone closer for a better look. The rational side of his brain knew that the action was pointless, but he had to try.

"We've alerted the authorities," Blake said. She was, without doubt, the most collected individual in the room. "Garcia ran a trace, and we gave them the GPS coordinates. Told them to look for signs of a wreck. We should hear from them as soon as everything is under control."

"What happened?" Derek could barely contain himself. He was simultaneously scared and enraged. He feared for Emily's life, and he was furious with himself for leaving things unfinished with her.

"We don't know yet," Hotch said. "We called her office, and no one seemed to know where she was."

"But is she okay?" Derek's voice had faltered in the slightest, and that had every one of his teammates turning in his direction. He was no longer able to hide the panic. In that singular question was laced a hopeful innocence, a painful dread and a pitiful uncertainty. His manly stature, reduced to that of a small child.

J.J. looked to the group. None of them spoke, seemingly not knowing what to say to console the visibly disturbed Derek, so she offered the best comfort she could. She walked over to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "We don't know yet, Derek," she reiterated Hotch's words.

He broke away from her touch and moved to come face to face with his superior. "I'm goin' over there." Hotch blinked at the finality in Morgan's voice, raising his eyes to meet the other man's. There was no verbal response, only a nod when Hotch must have decided that it would be futile to argue the point.

"You're not going without me," Garcia called out from behind Derek.

Dave stood. "I think all of us are going," he corrected.

Hotch rubbed his brow. "I'll have to coordinate with the Bureau to get another team up here."

Blake shook her head. "I can handle that, and I'll stay to brief them." She sent each of them a caring glance as she spoke. "You guys go, be with your friend." That was the only prodding they needed, and the six of them dashed through the doorway.

* * *

Emily awoke to a rhythmic beeping. Her brain felt almost fuzzy, if that were possible. She didn't dare open her eyes though, afraid that the simple movement would only serve to intensify her severe bout of nausea. Instead she focused on orientation and came to the conclusion that she was lying on her left side. She let out a stifled groan as the numbing pain again washed over her, an unfortunate side effect of gaining awareness. She didn't know what had happened, but she could guess that she was in a hospital, and that there was someone holding her left hand.

"I am _so _sorry." Her eyes shot open to meet with the deep brown ones of the man that had spoken.

Emily blinked rapidly. Maybe she wasn't awake after all, maybe she was dreaming. "You know," she slurred, "I'm on a lot of drugs, but I'm pretty sure you're real."

"I am," he brought her hand up to his chest.

"I must have been out for a while if you're here," her eyes had slipped closed again.

Derek bent his head to drop a kiss on the back of her hand. "I jumped on the first plane I could find."

"What happened?" She sounded groggily.

"Well, we're not really sure," he admitted. "We were hoping that maybe you'd be able to fill us in."

"We?" Emily asked in confusion. Derek's answer was a broad smile as he pointedly looked around her room. She followed his gaze and found the familiar faces of her old team, all of them in various stages of sleep induced comas. Her _old_ team… "Liam?" she queried in a whisper.

Derek's head dropped and she turned away. Tears were not something that she shed freely in front of others. "I'm sorry," he said again.

She faced him with watery eyes. "Mickles? Did they catch him?"

Derek bobbed his head, and she was grateful for that. "Easter was all over this," he began. "Turns out, Mickles was ex-I.R.A. and one of the guards at the prison, a guy by the name of Walsh, was a sympathizer. The guard slipped him the gun when he was supposed to be searching the bastard. Best we can come up with is that they picked a time when Mickles was supposed to pull the trigger, and Walsh came along behind you guys to pick him up." Emily's eyes drifted away from Derek, and he squeezed her hand to regain her attention. "They're both dead. I don't know the details, but I'm pretty sure it's better for Easter if no one does." She just nodded. Knowing that they were dead wasn't much of a consolation.

"I'm sorry." Derek involuntarily pulled back in surprise. "I shouldn't have ignored your calls… or your texts, emails, pigeon carriers and I'm pretty sure I saw some smoke signals at one time." A bright smile flooded his features. Emily knew that avoiding the sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach over the loss of Winchester wasn't going to help her, but she needed to set it aside for a little while. That grief would stay with her for a long time, and she'd need to occasionally disregard it.

"I am such an idiot." His smile was still firmly in place. "I can't believe I put that on you and expected you to do something about it." Derek shook his head and looked to the floor.

She studied him quietly. "You are." His eyes snapped back to hers questioningly. "You're an idiot. An imbecile, actually." His reaction betrayed him, and she saw how hurt he was by her words. Emily only laughed in response. "You _really_ think that I don't love you too?"

He physically perked up after hearing that. "I thought… the way you looked at me when I told you how I felt?"

She chuckled again. "Well, if you would've stuck around for more than two seconds," she trailed off, letting him realize where everything had gone wrong. "I would have told you that I couldn't believe that we had both felt that way, and that it was ridiculous for two profilers not to notice. We're both fools."

That bit of logic had him laughing as well. "I thought for sure you were going to tell me to get a life or somethin'."

"Well," she made a show of contemplating his words. "I kinda am telling you that. Only, I wanna be part of it. A big part."

"_Hmmm_," Derek growled out. "I think we might be able to work that out." He leaned forward and captured her lips for the first time. It was soft, passionate and eagerly returned.

"Awwwwwwe!" The two of them flew apart. Garcia had awoken, and had evidently enjoyed the show. Her outburst brought the others to consciousness. "You two are adorable!"

Emily promptly pulled Derek closer by his shirt in order to use him as a shield. With that action, the team caught on to the situation and was all smiles. Derek gave Penelope the best angry look he could muster, and began to mockingly chide her. "Woman, don't you know how to mind your own business yet?"

"Guys," Garcia addressed the others, "I think these lovebirds could use some private time." She winked at Derek. "You're forgiven by the way. I get that you can't be Superman without your Amazonian counterpart."

* * *

_Just as she closed out the window into her former home, she heard a quiet rapping. "Ma'am?" Winchester stood in the doorway to her office, patiently seeking approval for entry. _

_Emily shook off her emotions, and gestured for him to come in. "How long have you been there, Liam?" Embarrassed was a word that would adequately describe how she felt at the prospect of having a coworker witness what had just occurred._

_He leaned over her desk to get a look at the screen of her laptop. "Long enough to know that I don't have a shot at landing the new boss after all." He stood upright again, smiling lasciviously. "Relax," he said to her indignant stare, "I was only havin' you on. Seriously though, you should give that bloke a shot." _

_That had been the start to one of the most treasured friendships that Emily Prentiss would ever have._

**A/N: To those of you that care to know, this fic came about because my iTunes played "Sleepless Nights" (by Norah Jones) and "Come Back" (by Pearl Jam) back to back. The story got a little soap opera-y, but it was fun to write!**


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